


A Helping Hand

by theLiterator



Category: DCU, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Civil War, Crossover, Gen, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLiterator/pseuds/theLiterator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of Civil War #2, Captain America and Falcon rescue a group of kids from the police. This is a ridiculous proposal of what might have happened after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> So there I was, rereading Civil War issues as research for the next installment of the [Earth 3490](http://archiveofourown.org/series/207464) fic I'm working on with [teaberryblue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/teaberryblue) when I popped off with "that awkward moment when Batman and Steve realize they're on the same side in the civil war" and Tea, bless her, replied with "and they're both like. great. that guy." and promptly disappeared for 20 minutes from IM.
> 
> When she came back, I had this. Oops?
> 
> The Robin is Tim Drake, everyone else should be pretty clear to even casual readers of both series, though the very specific timestamp on this fic means you'll probably need to be familiar with 616 Civil War to appreciate this.

"Nightwing," Steve said tiredly. He'd _just_ finished calming Billy down enough that he felt comfortable leaving him alone in their nice, secure base.

"Tell me this isn't--" He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't want to fight you."

Nightwing took a step back. "You think that?" he asked, and his voice was rougher than Steve was used to hearing. "No, we've got our own in-fighting."

Steve was surprised to hear that. "The League always seemed--" he shook his head. "Say whatever you're here to say."

"Oh, I'm not here to talk, for once," Nightwing said, smiling his trademark grin. "He is." Nightwing jerked his chin in the general direction of Steve's six, and he whirled, gut sinking because it had to be...

"Batman," Steve said, even less enthused now. "Nice of you to drop in for a visit. You mind telling me how you found us?"

"Does it matter," Batman intoned, and Steve wanted to roll his eyes or punch the guy, seriously, but he did neither. "You'll leave anyway, after tonight."

"Probably," Steve admitted, though where they would go--

He reached out to catch the small object even before he’d consciously registered the brightly clad figure who’d tossed it his way. "Safehouses," Robin said. "Some of them even _he_ doesn't know about. Some of them are ours, some of them are yours, some of them are--" and here the teen blushed. "You know, the League of Shadows'. Theirs. Pick one."

"What?" Steve asked numbly. It was the sort of help he was used to from-- _Don't think it, don't thinkit, don'tthinkit, don't--_ other people, but never, ever from the Bats.

"You really think that we, of all people, are enthusiastic about some government paper pusher knowing our names? Our faces? Our _lives_?" Nightwing said, flipping over Steve's head in an enthusiastic display of gymnastics that always served to make him feel old.

Batman sent a quelling glare in Nightwing's direction, and Nightwing subsided, settling into a figure just as darkly brooding as his mentor. Not even a flippant "Sorry, B!" which usually happened about six times a conversation whenever Steve was around the brooding Justice League founder. Which, he admitted, he avoided as much as possible. Batman always made him feel so... backwards. Lacking in convictions, overly loyal to a broken system.

Well, he'd tried to divorce himself from his loyalty, and he was trying it again.

Maybe it wouldn't be so hard a second time.

"You'll also find some disposable identities on there, though they are by no means airtight. Use them only as long as you absolutely must." The man smirked under his cowl. "I can always provide more."

Steve glared at the tiny drive.

"Like it or not, Captain," Batman said. "You are operating outside the law now. You must learn to do so effectively, and quickly, or those children will be the ones who suffer."

Steve opened his mouth to snap back some retort about Batman _knowing_ about keeping kids safe, but he couldn't bring himself to do so, not with Robin _right there_ , so he snapped it shut again.

Batman strode forward and offered him his hand. Steve took it numbly, and Batman shook it with a respectable, if respectful, grip. "Good luck. If you need anything, I will send Nightwing." That smirk again, and, "I know you prefer him."

Steve nodded. The polite thing to do would be to protest that, but Batman wasn't really stuck on social niceties. Probably too frivolous to smile at acquaintances and make small talk about the weather.

Man had probably never had to sit through a charity gala in his _life_.

And... now neither would Steve. There was a sobering thought. Suddenly, the enormity of what he'd done by not surfacing before the Act had taken effect stretched before him. Night after night of underground safe houses, of secret meetings with untrustworthy individuals. Relying on charity and God knew what else to get by.

He rubbed his gloved hand over his face, half expected the Bats to be gone when he looked back up, but they weren't, and Batman was too close, frowning.

"On second thought," he murmured, and turned away, whispering under his breath into his radio. After a few moments, he turned back. "Robin will stay with you tonight, and I will send Batgirl to you tomorrow."

Robin glanced sharply at his mentor, but didn't protest. Probably too afraid, Steve thought, unkindly.

"It isn't necessary."

"It is," Batman replied curtly, and _then_ he disappeared.

Nightwing lingered, bending his dark head to Robin’s in quiet conversation and trading things from one utility belt to another. "I'm sure they have food," he heard, even though he wasn't supposed to, and "Take the card anyway, unless you've got an ID on you that you're willing to risk?"

Steve turned away to let the two have their moment, and he was surprised when Robin came up to brush his shoulder against Steve's arm not a few moments later.

"It'll be okay, Cap," Robin told him seriously, running a gloved hand through his hair. "They can't keep the Act going for long. Stuff like that needs funding, and a lot of the people with the money like superheros."

"Not everyone who's voting with their bank accounts is as airheaded as the Gotham elite," Steve said sharply.

Robin laughed at that, a swell of mirth that was warmer than anything else he'd seen of the teen, and Steve couldn't help but smile ruefully down at him.

"Come on, there's an extra bunk in with Wiccan. I have a feeling you two will get along."

Robin nodded. "Wake me up if you need anything, though. I've got Nightwing's AmEx, so that includes a late night diner run to pretend to be a normal guy."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," Steve said.

Robin shrugged. "It's a Robin thing, but I'm willing to let you in on the secret if the need arises." The phrase seemed particularly solemn, especially given the context. Despite that, Robin let himself be led to Billy's room, introducing himself with an easy smile and a handshake. Steve left them to it; he knew he wouldn't be wanted by two teenaged boys making friends in the middle of battle.

'If the need arises' indeed. Steve wasn't some sociopath addicted to violence willing to bring children in to fight his private turf war, so the need probably wouldn't arise, but maybe he could convince the kid to take off that mask and go out with the rest of the Young...

No.

They _couldn't_. He had trapped _them_ just as thoroughly as Robin was trapped, and he clenched his fists at the thought.

"Damn you to _hell_ Tony Stark," he hissed, whirling to punch the nearest wall.


End file.
